Deadly Furniture

Clone Wars has the highest body count of any children’s program I’ve ever seen, both for villains and heroes. These victims are characters with names, personalities, and more than ten minutes of screen time. And I think it’s fantastic.

The narrative crux of Clone Wars is right there in the title. This show may be written for children, but it is still about characters who are at war. To show a war without casualties would be a lie—even though many other shows (for children and adults) find that lie to be acceptable. It would be so easy for Clone Wars to take this route. Most of the battles are waged by droids and helmeted clones. Who cares if they kick the bucket, right?

Except that the writers go out of their way to depict each clone as an individual, with unique aspirations and motivations. One of the first season’s strongest episodes, “Rookies,” follows a team of clones’ first battle with the Separatists. These clones (Fives, Heavy, Echo, and Cutup—every soldier has a Battlestar Galactica-like call sign) are stationed on a remote, but key Republic planet, and are itching to see some action. Viewers experience the quirky military culture of their unit (The slightly obscured pin-up girls were my favorite). The comradery earned as they overcome a surprise invasion together. And finally the heart-breaking resignation as the team leaves one of their own behind to manually detonate the captured Republic base. There were a few sniffles on the Schmidtfer futon by the end of this episode.

I don’t mean to make it sound like Clone Wars is the children’s equivalent of The Gulag Archipelago. It has its share of light moments, and plenty of clunky dialogue and hammy acting. And those inspirational quotes in the cold open are pretty terrible. But at its heart, Clone Wars is a show about the nature of war, and how different characters react to opposition. From pacifist lemurs to vindictive cyborgs and everything in between, an entire spectrum of philosophies are given thoughtful consideration in various episodes. How can the Jedi call themselves “peacekeepers” when they are the vanguard of a galaxy-wide war? What can be considered an “acceptable loss” when human lives are concerned? Why is Jar-Jar featured in more than one episode? Okay, so that last atrocity probably isn’t an intentional theme… But Clone Wars is willing to ask some pretty big questions.

In criticism of children’s entertainment, much has been made about how sanitized fairy tales have become from their brutally violent origins. It seems parents used to be a bit less protective of their innocent young ones in days past. Now, I’m not suggesting a return to children’s stories with self-performed amputations and cannibalism. But I do think Clone Wars’ grave examination of violence in wartime is not something parents should shy away from. Maybe if we saw the Evil Queen hit the ground we’d better understand the price of Snow White’s happily ever after.

Episodes to Watch: Cloak of Darkness, Lair of Grievous

Gargoyles. Epic Music. Sarah Michelle Gellar. A bad guy. A poorly lit room. The CW. A stake….oh wait. Right—this isn’t Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is Ringer. Joss Whedon isn’t about to break our hearts into little pieces and smash them in the ground and, unless this show goes somewhere far different, I doubt that there will be vampires. But there probably should be.

You see—this show is somewhere bordering on awful. Which is heartbreaking to say because there are so many HUGE television names attached to the project. Besides SMG, there’s Nestor The Never Aging Carbonell and there’s Horatio Hornblower (Ioan Gruffudd) talking in an upper-class British accent. And SMG deserves to have a show to help her break back into the television world. She has the acting chops. She can cry on demand. She can die and come back again and again and again. In fact, that’s a skill that she even uses in this very first episode.

Basic Plot (for all of you who haven’t been hiding under a rock and because Elizabeth demands it): Bridget (SMG twin one!) decides at the last minute that she doesn’t want to testify in a murder case and runs away from Nestor the Never Aging Detective. She visits her sister Siobhan  (SMG twin two) and all looks great and mirror-y until Siobhan falls out of a boat. GASP! Siobhan is obviously dead because we mean---there’s no body, Bridget was unconscious throughout the whole thing, and with billions of dollars Siobhan obviously had nothing to live for. So, Bridget takes on Siobhan’s identity because she can and then realizes, too late, that Siobhan may have had a reason to want to die after all.

Still, despite its obvious flaws, there’s something to the show--even besides a shirtless Horatio. Bridget is a recovering addict that often looks like she’s just barely holding on. This creates a new level for the character. She’s not only hiding her identity, she’s also hiding a crippling craving. And Ringer also has the kind of premise that is never going to be incredible, but it could be a fun, guilty pleasure. It never would have made it on CBS next to Two and a Half Men or The Good Wife, but it might be able to make it on the CW.

But the problem is, that the director and the cinematography don’t do the show any favors. Elizabeth’s personal favorite is the “We’re on a rear-projected boat in the 1960s!” with painful green screen shots. Rebecca’s is the “I’m being followed by a dark but handsome man! I will obviously make out with him as soon as possible.”  It’s a horror to behold. Something that I’m sure Joss Whedon is silently shaking his head over. Well…okay. We doubt he watched it.

In fact, we think everyone is shaking their heads with him. Because there’s so much potential here, and it just culminated in disaster. That being said, we’re obviously going to watch it again. Because somehow we have to believe that these three incredible actors can pull it off, can start ignoring the director, and do something great. And besides, it’s kinda fun. And we like fun.